| |
| MY lady walks her morning round, | |
| My lady’s page her fleet greyhound, | |
| My lady’s hair the fond winds stir, | |
| And all the birds make songs for her. | |
| |
| Her thrushes sing in Rathburn bowers, | 5 |
| And Rathburn side is gay with flowers; | |
| But ne’er like hers, in flower or bird, | |
| Was beauty seen or music heard. | |
| |
| The distance of the stars is hers; | |
| The least of all her worshippers, | 10 |
| The dust beneath her dainty heel, | |
| She knows not that I see or feel. | |
| |
| Oh, proud and calm!—she cannot know | |
| Where’er she goes with her I go; | |
| Oh, cold and fair!—she cannot guess | 15 |
| I kneel to share her hound’s caress! | |
| |
| Gay knights beside her hunt and hawk, | |
| I rob their ears of her sweet talk; | |
| Her suitors come from east and west, | |
| I steal her smiles from every guest. | 20 |
| |
| Unheard of her, in loving words, | |
| I greet her with the song of birds; | |
| I reach her with her green-arm’d bowers, | |
| I kiss her with the lips of flowers. | |
| |
| The hound and I are on her trail, | 25 |
| The wind and I uplift her veil; | |
| As if the calm, cold moon she were, | |
| And I the tide, I follow her. | |
| |
| As unrebuked as they, I share | |
| The licence of the sun and air, | 30 |
| And in a common homage hide | |
| My worship from her scorn and pride. | |
| |
| World-wide apart, and yet so near, | |
| I breathe her charmèd atmosphere, | |
| Wherein to her my service brings | 35 |
| The reverence due to holy things. | |
| |
| Her maiden pride, her haughty name, | |
| My dumb devotion shall not shame; | |
| The love that no return doth crave | |
| To knightly levels lifts the slave. | 40 |
| |
| No lance have I, in joust or fight, | |
| To splinter in my lady’s sight; | |
| But, at her feet, how blest were I | |
| For any need of hers to die! | |
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